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<title>I had a dream about you (While I was looking into your eyes) by PersonyPepper</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019488">I had a dream about you (While I was looking into your eyes)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersonyPepper/pseuds/PersonyPepper'>PersonyPepper</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Conversations, Awkward Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff, Getting Together, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:48:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersonyPepper/pseuds/PersonyPepper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> He sometimes wonders if Geralt truly wants him around, if he only lets him tag along because Jaskier’s a special breed of stubborn and clingy. </i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>266</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I had a dream about you (While I was looking into your eyes)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Winter comes far too quickly for Jaskier’s preference. If it were up to him, the gods of Summer, Spring, and Fall would reign over the lands, a trio of seasons that would never force Geralt and Jaskier to part. The gods are cruel like that, he supposes, Melitele’s daughter forced to split time between the world and the underworld, the goddess refusing to grow crops for a fourth of the year in her pain, leaving her creations to starve and retreat into their homes. Jaskier sighs, before breathing in a lungful of chill air, Geralt walking next to him with Roach’s reins in his hands.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They’re headed for Kaedwen, the last stop before they’ll part ways and Jaskier fills the air with silly tunes, cherishing each small smile Geralt gives him as if it’s his last. Their parting always feel like this, so final and unsure if they’ll meet up again; Geralt’s certainly never expressed an interest in it, but they happen to end up together by Destiny’s hands, Jaskier either finding him passed out after a hunt or Geralt’ll stumble into a traven, Jaskier flitting across tables, well into his set.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He sometimes wonders if Geralt truly wants him around, if he only lets him tag along because Jaskier’s a special breed of stubborn and clingy. He sighs, tucking his lute back into his case, humming as they approach the town. Jaskier can’t really play at the tavern, the townsfolk too dreary under the grey skies of oncoming winter and any monster that could’ve possibly prowled was always taken care of by Vesemir, who, Geralt said, had arrived nearly a week ago. With nothing to do other than pass the time and rest, the witcher sits to tend to his blades and Jaskier tugs out his notebook.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s a sketchbook— he has to preserve this moment somehow and sadly enough, sometimes words won’t do. Geralt looks ethereal in the dim light of the small fire, his white hair reflecting flame as if they’re rays of sunlight, a glow of red and orange drapes itself over one cheek, the other half of his face is dark, turned away from the warmth. Jaskier knows full well that his drawing won’t do any justice to his image either, but it’s the best he can do.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s tricky business, to be a subtle artist. He is flamboyant, filled to brim with color, and the idea of performing his art in secrecy without being able to showcase it causes him near-physical pain. But, he thinks as he resigns himself, a piece of charcoal in hand, that Geralt is his subject and he himself is an artist and an audience all at once. And besides, what good is it to think about such things when this is their last night together, possibly for a few months (possibly forever).</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p> “Jaskier?” The bard flinches, guilty at having been caught red handed, but his sketchbook is still closed and hasn’t even begun to draw.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He looks at the witcher, all straight lines, too good, too perfect. Melitele, he’s going to miss him. Miss him till it’s all he can think about, miss him till he starts losing his mind, pulled back to Oxenfurt in half  madness where he’ll pretend he doesn’t miss him and hope, hope, hope he’ll see him again with all his heart.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His silence is taken as an answer; Geralt parts his lips to say something more, only to shake his head and look away, muttering a small nevermind.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Geralt,” he scolds lightly, a playful lilt in his voice, a front more than a truth, “Haven’t we talked about this? Tell me, what’s on your mind, dear heart?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He can practically see the turmoil as Gerarlt fights with his emotions, the decades of pushing them away versus all the coaxing and talking Jaskier’s done to try and help him express. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Jaskier, I— I’ll…” his eyebrows furrow, lips twisting down unhappily as he tries to figure out his words. Oh, his perfect witcher, he tries so hard for him. They’re not together, they won’t ever be, most likely, but oh, a bard can dream, can’t he?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Will you miss me at all?” Jaskier looks up at Geralt in shock, the witcher’s lips pressed together tightly as if he regrets the words that’ve just burst out of his mouth. Idly, Jaskier wonders if this could be a trick question; if he says yes, will he be made fun of pushed away? Laughed at? And what if he were to say no.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Amber eyes bore into him. He knows he can’t leave the question unanswered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Of course I will, my friend, like a friend misses a friend,” words spew out of his mouth, not sure what to say, not sure where they stand, awkward and rambling, he continues, “and, of course, I do worry about you and your— and your horse! I’ll dearly miss poor Roach, a muse in her own right—” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Come with me. To Kaer Morhen.” Jaskier straightens, sketchbook and charcoal forgotten at his side, thanking Melitele that the witcher cut off his awful stream of words before he could begin waxing poetic about Roach (though she full well deserves it).</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You want me…” he trails off before finding his thoughts again, “to co—”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I want you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Oh. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh,” Jasakier breathes, getting to his feet as he approaches his friend. He looks at him for an awkward moment, unsure, before he cups his cheeks gently, looking into those golden eyes that stare back at him, filled with meaning.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You want me.” The witcher hums, a low rumble of acknowledgement and confirmation running through his chest as he wraps his hands around Jaskier’s hips, guiding them to sit in his lap. “I thought you didn’t. I thought—” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And there’s a kiss being pressed to Jaskier’s lips, cold-chapped lips rough against his own.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m sorry,” Geralt mumbles between their lips, a reverent apology, a confession and prayer for more, all at once, “I want you.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jaskier smiles and presses his lips back to Geralt’s own.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I want you, too.”</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written for Winter as a prompt fill! </p><p>Let me know what you thought, I'm just dumping all my tumblr prompt fills into a03 dont mind me xDD. &lt;33 comments and kudos are much appreciated! </p><p>My tumblr's @persony-pepper, come say hi! &lt;33 I rb witcher things and take geraskier writing prompts of all kinds.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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